When people see Houston to Harlem, they may see a phrase that represents two cities.
For me, it’s much more personal than that.
Houston is where I learned who I was before I even really understood what that meant.
I’m from Third Ward. Houston gave me my foundation — my mouth, my confidence, my taste in music, the way I dress, the way I love people, and probably a little bit of the reason I don’t scare easily. There’s a certain kind of pride that comes from being from Houston. We don’t have to announce ourselves too much. You can usually feel it.
But eventually, life took me somewhere completely different.
Harlem.
And New York will humble you in ways nobody can really prepare you for.
You can come here feeling like you know exactly who you are and what you’re going to do, and this city will ask you the question again.
Okay… but who are you when nobody knows you?
Who are you when things take longer than you expected?
Who are you when you have to rebuild?
Who are you when the plan changes?
I’ve had to answer those questions more than once.
I’ve lived in Harlem for years now, and somewhere along the way it stopped feeling like a place I moved to and started feeling like another piece of me.
Harlem has a confidence of its own. There’s history everywhere. Fashion. Music. Blackness. Creativity. Hustle. People who have seen some things and still know how to put an outfit on, walk outside, and live.
I understand that kind of spirit.
And as I’ve gotten older, I’ve realized I don’t have to choose between the woman Houston raised and the woman New York helped shape.
I need both of her.
Houston gave me roots.
Harlem taught me how far those roots could stretch.
And that’s why Houston to Harlem became bigger than just something I wanted to put on clothes.
It represents every time I’ve had to carry home with me while making a home somewhere else.
It represents growing without abandoning yourself.
It represents being proud of where you come from while still giving yourself permission to become somebody you’ve never been before.
I think a lot of women understand that feeling, especially as we get older.
You start realizing that becoming doesn’t always mean completely reinventing yourself.
Sometimes it’s actually the opposite.
Sometimes growing is getting closer to the parts of yourself that were always there — just wiser, softer in certain places, stronger in others, and a lot less interested in explaining yourself.
That’s where I am right now.
I’m still a Houston girl.
I’m also a Harlem woman.
I can hear the South in the way I speak and see New York in the way I move.
Both are true.
And seeing those two parts of my life come together on a mural with my name across it still feels a little surreal. Houston on one side. Harlem on the other. Me right in the middle. It’s more than a backdrop or a cool piece of art to me — it feels like a visual reminder that both places belong in my story.
I think that’s one of my favorite things about getting older: realizing I don’t have to fit neatly into one box.
None of us do.
So yes, Houston to Harlem is part of my brand.
But before it ever became a movement, it was my life.
Two places that raised two different parts of the same woman.
And wherever life takes me next, I know I’ll carry both with me.
HOUSTON MADE | HARLEM PAID
And God is still writing the rest.
— Lady Matt